Page 31 of Impossible

That makes him smile. “I’ll see what I can do then. Usually an alpha attends those kinds of things with his pack.”

“Will your pack not come?”

His smile disappears. “No.”

His voice is terse, and I don’t ask why they won’t be there. We walk the rest of the way in silence.

When we get to my dorm, he stops outside rather than walking in with me. “I’m not actually supposed to go inside the omega dorm,” he says when I look at him questioningly. “Friday was a special circumstance.”

“Oh,” I say, thinking back to his arms around me, his purr running through my body. Special circumstance indeed.

“Omegas can get protective around their nests,” he explains, “and alpha scent in a nesting space can set off spikes or territorial urges.”

“God, who would have thought that scent politics would be a thing.” I roll my eyes. “Honestly though, I can’t even smell myself. I don’t understand what all the fuss is.”

“You’ll learn how to scent yourself with time.”

“What do I even smell like?” I ask. “I can smell you so strongly, and the other omegas in the hallway, and all the alphas too, but I have no idea what I smell like.”

“You’re still pretty unpredictable right now honestly, fading in and out. Dr. Gray said you’re fully awakened, but I’d say barely. You smell like bergamot and black tea and springtime herbs. It’s a very unusual scent for an omega, more refreshing than sweet, and quite complex. It’s very nice.”

The way he saysvery nicemakes me weak in the knees.

“You smell like cloves,” I murmur. “It’s also very nice.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. It isn’t appropriate for me to comment on his scent. And he knows how he smells, he doesn’t need me to tell him. Still, he smiles at me like it’s novel information.

“Thank you, Indigo.”

Even weaker knees. I usually hate when people use my full name. I have no idea what my parents were thinking, naming me Indigo, but when Leon says it, I feel like it truly belongs to me, instead of just the idea of me they constructed when I was a squalling infant.High hopes dashed, I think bitterly. Indie the Inadequate.

“I should probably get going now, I have a class waiting for me, but can I plan on seeing you for lunch tomorrow?” Leon asks. “We can eat in my office if you want to avoid the rush.”

“Is that… appropriate?” I ask. I’m thinking of the purring. About how much I want it, and how I know now that I really,reallyshouldn’t.

Leon looks at me, his expression troubled. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Does he not know? He has to—he’s a teacher for god’s sake. I guess we’re playing dumb on the purring front though. “Um, no reason,” I shrug. “I’ll be there.”

“Only if you’re comfortable, Indie.”

“No.” I shake my head automatically. “I mean, I’ll be there. I want to. I just…” I swallow. “I’ll see you then.”

I can tell he wants to ask what I was about to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods, hesitating for a moment, rubbing around his stump with his right hand. My eyes flit towards it—he’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt that’s tucked in on itself to hide the scar from sight.

“Does it hurt?” I nod at it.

“Yes. It feels like it’s still there, and my fingers and palm are killing me. They call them phantom pains. They’re supposed to go away eventually.”

“Were you left-handed?” I ask, stupidly. I just don’t want him to leave.

“Thankfully no.” Leon smiles. “Right-handed. Just down a helping hand, you could say.”

The fact that he can joke about losing a limb is impressive. I grin.

“Bye, Indigo. Until tomorrow.”

“Bye, Leon. Or, er, Trainer Midas, I guess?”

He grimaces. “Please call me Leon.”

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